


Everything At Once

by violet569



Category: Homestuck, Log Horizon, Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Archaeologist Reader, Based on a Tumblr Post, Derse and Prospit, Fantasy, Gen, Historical Fantasy, Original Fiction, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Princes & Princesses, Prospit (Homestuck), Reader with a Quirk, Reader-Insert, Some Humor, Some Plot, Spoilers for Book 5 - A Dance with Dragons, Tags May Change, Tumblr Prompt, Writing, Writing Exercise, multifandom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-07 22:09:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violet569/pseuds/violet569
Summary: This is a collection of short stories biased on prompts, containing various fandoms, characters, AUs, ect. from the tumblr blog: 2-many-plot-twistsThey vary in length, and are updated as the blog updates.





	1. Boku no Hero Academia

 Prompt:

Humans have begun mutating at an alarmingly swift pace. Some humans consider the mutation to be an evolutionary advantage they have been blessed with, while most humans are purely disgusted by the changes they cannot understand.

 

You didn’t understand why you had to be doing this. Okay, yes it made sense to follow the biggest, strongest person out there with the best power so you wouldn’t somehow end up in their way when they decided to destroy the people they hated, do what they ask so you don’t get hurt in the long run.

But Errand Runner? That was pushing it a little, even for your low standards.

The stack of folders jostled in your arms as you quickly descended on the stone steps leading underground. You paused when you came to a wooden door, and did your best to knock three times while not dropping the papers. After a second of silence, a gruff voice on the other side of the door said, “Password?”

“One for all and all for one,” you replied almost immediately. The door was pulled open and the hinges squealed in protest, but you said nothing. It was always better not to state an opinion once inside. You’d made that mistake once before.

Leaving the doorman behind, you darted through the corridors with lightning speed. That was your power anyways, to increase our speed to be as fast as lightning. In no time, you arrived at another door, but this one was decorated more lavishly than the last. This one was almost fit for a king.

“S-sir,” you stammered out. “The papers you requested have arrived.” You shifted uncomfortably as you always did when you were in the top boss’ presence.

“Come in. It’s open,” he said smoothly, and you hesitantly opened the door. He was sitting in front of a roaring fire, the light dancing across the walls in the shapes of animals as he manipulated the fire. “Do you know what people are calling these powers now?”

“Quirks, sir.” You’d heard of the name only recently on tv, and you were thankful to have heard it.

“Indeed.” He turned to face you with his shaggy dark hair covering his eyes. “The also have begun naming their quirks. For example, yours might be called Lightning Speed.” You stayed silent and allowed him to continue, even though it took all your willpower to not audibly swallow the lump in your throat. “Think I’ve come up with a clever name for my quirk. Would you like to hear what it is?”

“O-of course, sir." He grinned maliciously at your compliance and stood up, a spike of fear running down your spine as he moved closer to you.

“I was thinking about the name: **All For One**. What do you think?”


	2. Avengers: Thor

Prompt:

27°22’50.10″N, 33°37’54.62″E

 

You weren’t sure what to expect from this location.

You had received this in the mail when you had gone out to walk your dogs. The only reason you had actually seen the envelope, was because when you had walked out your house, the red flag on your mail box had been turned up. Normally, if there was something to be sent the flag would be up, but you couldn’t remember putting anything inside.

Naturally you were curious, so you went to open your mail box despite the whines coming from your two dogs dying to go on a walk. Inside was an off-white envelope with gold trim, and your name neatly in cursive on the front. You’d precariously opened it, and found a single index card with only these coordinates. No return address, so sending address, nothing. You were suspicious of course, who wouldn’t be, so you just ignored it for about a week. That lasted until the next one arrived.

_Come. There’s something you might want to see for yourself._

There was another paper in the envelope this time. It was a photo from a high altitude as far as you could tell. The height however, was not what was interesting. It was the spiral shape the sand of the desert was making.

Being an archaeologist as you were, and seeing this, even if it was only a photo, sent you packing a week worth of bags if not more, finding your dogs a sitter, and catching the first plane to that location.

You were picked up in a black van that looked like it could be used for off-road travel, and were driven to your destination. On the way, you had tried to gather information from the driver and two passengers about who they were and what they wanted from you. The only answer you obtained from the former question was that it was “classified” information, and as for the latter, they wanted you to identify something for them.

Frankly it wasn’t very reassuring, but you had no room for trust issues when you were surrounded by men in dark clothes and big guns in their reach.

Upon reaching your destination, anticipation and a bundle of other nerves threatened to crawl up your throat. You stepped out of the van flanked by the two passengers. As you looked around you noticed that more black vans and science equipment vans scattered the area. People were minding their own business for the most part as you passed, only a few looking up briefly to do a once over of you before going back to work.

There was one man who stood away from the rest and observed the work, and you were headed straight towards him. The two men stopped and allowed you to continue forward before leaving, presumably to give you and this man some privacy to talk.

“I hope we didn’t scare you in any way. It’s just a precaution you see, given how we’re government intelligence,” the man said without turning to you.

“Of course.” You couldn’t keep the suspicion from your voice, but you tried to give this man and his people the benefit of the doubt.

“We just couldn’t contact you directly. I hope you understand.” He turned to you and you saw that he wore a dark suit despite the blistering sun, and had pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“I understand.” You didn’t really, but its wasn’t like you were going to say otherwise. “Although I do have some questions.”

“I’ll answer what protocols allow me to.”

“So,” you started slowly. “Who are you, and what exactly is it that you want me to identify? Are they bone, or an artifact, or ruins? Because the answer will determine how much of a help I’ll be.”

“Those are things I can answer straight forwardly.” He took off his sunglasses to reveal intelligent hazel eyes. “I’m Agent Coulson, and I need you to identify a hammer.”


	3. Sherlock Holmes (BBC Version)

Prompt:

A genius detective who is able to thwart the worlds most intelligent criminals comes upon his hardest case yet: a complete moron.

 

Sherlock knew that he was the smartest person around him, or rather he was of superior intelligence and everyone else was below him. He didn’t necessarily hate people per say, merely  _dislikes_ them for their lack of a thought process. They just didn’t have what it takes to be on the same mental plane as him.

Moriarty was a whole other basket case, although with confidence, Sherlock could say that his rival was on the save level of intellectual acuity as himself. The oddities that his rival had come up with in the past has thrilled him and brought him to the edge of his metaphorical seat. Yes, lives were in danger, but there would be no fun in a rescue if there was nothing to try and stop him.

Okay, okay. Fine, his brother Mycroft was also a part of the “Intelligent” club. Now all the people that were going to say that he was forgotten can run along back to the mundane lives they were living. But onto the real point…

Sherlock could solve any problem, puzzle, or question given enough time. He was praised and rewarded for solving crimes, or at least that’s what John told him happened on the blog about his cases. He could figure out anything, because he was smart enough to do so.

At this moment, he was waiting. In front of him stood a girl shorter than himself, with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. Judging by the short choppiness of the cut, the over-worn clothes, and the new ID clipped to her shirt, he could tell that she was still in college. Her shoulders sagged in such a way that indicated that intense stress had been placed on them for an extended period of time (a.k.a a backpack), and her purse was nearly flat with the lack of items that come from being around a long time. Adding to the fact that her clothes were slightly wrinkled, most likely from being folded and not hung, she wasn’t here for a job interview. No, she was probably heading to work for the first time. Sherlock could fathom all this from merely one look.

What he  _absolutely couldn’t_  fathom though, was how this same woman pulled on the handle of the door when it clearly said  **push**  in big bold letters directly beside her. Even with his intellect, he wasn’t sure how this was possible.

John had, on numerous occasions mind you, reminded Sherlock to be as polite as possible and mindful of other’s feelings no matter their mental level when speaking with them. Or in general really. He thought he’d done pretty well so far but  _this_ …  _This_ was going to push him over the edge.

Watching this twenty-something year old struggle for a solid minute to get the door open, would nullify any sense of restraint he had left, and John wasn’t here to stop him.

Sherlock cleared his throat, and with the least irritated tone he could manage, said, “Excuse me, Miss. Allow me.” She turned to him and looked at him with what should have been intelligent grey eyes, but were instead filled with worry and embarrassment accompanied by the reddening of her cheeks. She stepped aside, and he took a single stride forwards,  _pushing_ the door open. If it was possible to combined a tomato and a human face, she would have been the embodiment of this hybrid, as her face acquired an unnatural red hue to it that should have been impossible for any normal human being to obtain. She walked quickly through the door that Sherlock had held open for her like the gentleman he was.

You hear that, John? That’s the sound of your accusations falling apart in your hands.

When Sherlock noticed that she was heading for the elevator, he swiftly moved towards the stairs to avoid her company. As soon as he looked up from the bottom of the stair case, his face visibly fell. Stair construction. Vexing, wasn’t it? With irked resignation, he turned towards the elevator and started towards it, when the doors began to close with only the girl inside.

“Hold the lift!” He shouted to gain her attention, but she was so wrapped up in her little world that she didn’t even look away from whatever she was staring at inside the elevator’s walls. The doors closed, and Sherlock moved faster.

Seconds after they had closed, he slammed his hand on the button, knowing still that the elevator had probably left. To his shock and amusement, the doors opened with a ding to reveal the girl in the same exact position she had been in when the doors had closed. Sherlock stepped in, but didn’t press a button. He didn’t need this inattentive and most likely obnoxiously curious girl to know where he was going, so he waited for her to press one. And waited. And waited.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep at bay the rude and insensitive comments that would no doubt come out if he spoke up, but this woman was crawling all over his nerves. “Can you not read Roman Numerals?” That probably came out much more insulting than he had planned, but by the way her face paled at the question, it had fulfilled it’s purpose.

Sherlock sighed irritably. “What floor are you going to?”

She fidgeted nervously, her face alight once more in embarrassment. “T-the seventh floor.” He reached up and pressed the button that looked like  **VII,** and that’s when the elevator finally began to move.

“You should probably learn how to read Roman Numerals so you won’t have to inconvenience anyone else next time you try and use the lift.” Oops, had he said inconvenience? He’d meant to say ask.

Her face morphed into one of complete dejection, and Sherlock felt a twinge of remorse, which caught him by surprise. He some how felt obliged to do something to make up for his lack of delicacy, at the same time as repressing his outward groan at these thoughts. Making a split second decision and dug out one of the business cards John had whipped up out of his pocket. He held it out of her outwardly wilting figure, and she took it absentmindedly.

Reading over the card, her posture immediately straightened and eyes grew wide. Those grey irises of hers flicked back and forth between the card and his face. “You’re  _the_ Sherlock Holmes?”

He straighten the collar of his coat. “That would be me, yes.”

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

She held out her hand to him, practically bouncing on her toes now. “Tyler Smith. Nice to meet you Sherlock.” He paused with slight apprehension, but took her hand to shake anyways.

The door opened with another ding, and Tyler, as he now knew her name to be, flashed a thousand watt smile in his direction and stepped onto the seventh floor. “Thank you so much, Sherlock! I promise, if I ever have an interesting case that needs solving I’ll come to you first!” He watched as she turned and headed for the main set of doors down the first hallway, and opened to doors to figure out it was the wrong room, say a string of apologizes, and repeat the process with a different room. Only one thing passed through his head as the elevator’s doors closed and he punched the button of the floor he needed to go to.

_I’m dealing with a complete moron, aren’t it?_


	4. Homestuck

Prompt:

You suddenly have an insatiable and irrational urge to submit a response to a writing prompt. You try to fight it.

 

You fail to fight the insatiable urge to submit a response. It’s been programmed into your brain since the very beginning. I mean really, how can you not accept a challenge that you know you’re destined to fail?

Your name is Dimwit Hooligan.

==> Try again idiot

Your name is (First Name) (Last Name), and you have too many things to talk about. You have too much TIME on your hands, while simultaneously not having any free time at all. Like right NOW for instance. You could be doing WORK that needs to be done, or writing STORIES that need to be written, or DRAWING ART that you promised yourself you’d draw. Instead, you’re spending time on TUMBLR and other various SOCIAL MEDIAS.

That is typical for you, considering the fact that you are an avid BLOGGER. You often re-post other people’s works because you CANNOT think of anything post worthy that you have. You theorize on your favorite TELEVISION SHOWS and ANIMES that you are interested in and follow others that do the same. You DO NOT have many followers though. Your hobbies include POSTING, READING FANFICTIONS, PLAYING VIDEO GAMES, and WASTING TIME.

The real question is: What will you do now?

==> Ascend

You cannot ascend because you’re not sure what you’re implying.

What else will you do?

==> Waste more time nedlessly

As you think about this, you are wasting time that would be spend doing something else, and therefore should get up and do something. Yet you are still sitting and doing nothing.

Will you get up and be productive for once?

Are you Sodium Bromide? Because

==> NaBro

You proceed to do nothing for a little while longer, but this is getting a little boring. Suddenly, your computer makes a noise, alerting you that someone has commented on your Discord channel.

==> Check it

You click to the other tabs that is your Discord. The other tabs you have open are all other websites that you have yet to check out, some of them being animes you told yourself to watch a month ago, others being fanfictions that you have yet to bookmark and/or save.

Your server is called “People I Hate” and originally you only have yourself inside it. Eventually your friends over social media found out have somehow gained access to your server.

The message says, ‘ _When will the next Dungeons and Dragons meeting be?_ ’

To be completely honest, you had forgotten about your session. To elaborate to yourself, you are the Dungeon Master of one of the most, if not the most, unfortunate campaigns ever. You will not go into detail with yourself, because you already know the details, but it’s  _bad_ , even by your terrible standards.

You’d like to reply to them in a timely fashion, but you can feel your eyelids becoming heavy. Sleep, you decide, is more important.

==> Sleep

You close your eyes, only to open them seconds later to a golden tower, with the word ‘ ** _Prospit_** ’hanging in the air outside your window.


	5. Original

 

Prompt:

The monsters can only get you when the lights are out, so the lights stay on 24/7, globally. One night in the middle of winter, a massive power outage hits the United States.

 

And suddenly there they were. Creatures of all shapes a sizes, colored in everything the rainbow had to offer and then some. You spotted one while sitting on the bench, once you had looked away from your book. It was coiled around the snowy trunk of the largest tree, and vaguely remind you of a snake. It had six eyes and crawled around on four legs, but had two arms near its oval shaped head. It’s color was a murky black, like what you might find in an old bottle of ink. That’s when you realized that the street light above you had gone out.

Apparently, the monster had come to an identical conclusion at the same time, because its head shot up from where it was resting. You couldn’t help but left out a small gasp. I mean, who wouldn’t at a creature that was at least twenty feet long and suddenly moving.

When it heard your noise, its head snapped towards you as quick as a whip. And in that moment, you knew you were a goner. Your heart beat quickened and your breath was caught in your throat. It was going to charge and eat you and you would never see your family again, and do the things you wanted to accomplish. Man did this really make you question your actions in life. You hadn’t done much with it, and you felt the regret hit you like a brick. You closed your eyes, and accepted your fate.

Instead, there was a squealing or squeaking noise, you couldn’t decide which, coming from the direction of the monster. Your eyelids flashed open, just in time to see the huge, cumbersome creature scamper away.

You had to blink a few times and even pinch yourself to make sure that what you saw was real, and that you weren’t dreaming.

What was  _that_?

You stood, stashing your book in your backpack before slinging it on your shoulder and sprinting towards home. You had been lucky. That’s all that had been, you told yourself. You would never be that lucky again.

But fate decides to prove you wrong once again, because the next monster you came across, this one a fifteen foot tall vulture-like creature, squawked in something you probably mistook as fear, and flew away. Absconded if you will. An eight armed humanoid shortly after did the same thing.

_What one Earth was happening here?_

When you arrived on your street, it was complete chaos. People chased out smaller creatures with improvised weapons, and some even brought guns out from their houses. Dead monsters lay scattered. Some lay on the street, some draped over rooves, and some tossed into lawns. Some brush and trees were on fire, a fire hydrant dusted water high into the air, but despite that, it generally seemed like your species was winning. There were screams too, but in a daunting revelation, you realized that is wasn’t the people that were screaming.

The odd creatures ran from the humans, and tried to protect what seemed to be their comrades. One creature that looked like a unicorn made out of green ooze, was suddenly ablaze while trying to run. Your neighbors cheered as the Molotov cocktail they threw worked, but you watched in a stupefied horror as the other sludge unicorns whinnied at their dying ally. It neighed in response before sloshing to the concrete unceremoniously in an unmoving heap of goo. Its comrades fled with one last call that seemed to be sorrowful, before galloping away down the street.

The street lights flickered back to life along with the lights inside the houses. People cheered louder. They had survived the blackout. Although, even with all the celebration going on all around you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to even smile. The weight of your new realization crushed you under its load, and you collapsed you the ground on your knees.

They chose to conceal themselves in the dark, not because they were monsters and were waiting to feed, but because they were trying to hide.

You were the monsters all along.


	6. Original 2

Prompt:

You’re a powerful dragon that lived next to a small kingdom. For centuries you ignored humanity and lived alone in a cave, and the humans also avoided you. As the kingdom fell to invaders, a dying soldier approaches you with the infant princess, begging you to take care of her.

 

Humans.

You scoffed.

You hated humans.

They were tiny, weak, and utterly pathetic creatures. Considering you were almost four times one of their height’s, it was to be expected after all. You breathed a puff of smoke from your nostrils, watching how it coiled and curled around itself before dissipating. You were always like this. Lounging around the abandoned castle you called home, only leaving to eat or go to the bathroom. Occasionally, a so called “hero” could come along and try to fight you to take back the castle.

The more snacks the better you always say.

It wasn’t like you were protecting anything other than a shelter though. You weren’t infatuated with shiny things that held material value, unlike your siblings of whom you haven’t heard from in a long time. You leaned more towards the side of comfort more than anything else. You guess that’s why you like it here. If was for the most part silent outside, and there weren’t any large kingdoms to bother you, only a small one, and even that one was barely see-able on the horizon line. Merely a silhouette against the sky.

You rolled over on the roof. Of course there was plenty of space, even for a dragon of your size to lounge on. It was massive. You had a hunch that this castle used to be a capital for a large kingdom that had long since fallen, but you didn’t have much proof. Any of the riches that had once laid here had been plundered quite a while ago, though everything else had been left alone mostly. You didn’t care, nothing humans had ever helped you.

There had also been rumors you’d heard from the traveling caravans that rested inside the castle, that there was powerful group of invaders that had begun to swamp surrounding kingdoms and merge it into their own. And yes, you let travelers into the castle to stay for a night because although you may hate humans, you weren’t heartless.

The rumors were a little worrisome though. If the group decided to come and try to capture your castle, you might actually get wounded for once.

With a big yawn, you set your sights on the horizon, displaying the rising sun for all to see, specifically at the kingdom in the distance, when something odd caught your eye. It looked like a mini version of your...

Smoke.

Your head shot up as realization dawned on you. The kingdom was on fire. Hesitating, but eventually in resignation, you laid the underside of your chin on your scaly front leg. That was just how humans were. The weak die. The strong lie to conquer the ones that don’t die. That’s just how their life was.

You lay there for a while, watching the far kingdom burn, as the sun rose behind it.

In an ugly sort of way, it was beautiful.

You hadn’t noticed that you’d drifted off to sleep until the smell of blood hit your nose. You blearily blinked our eyes open to see where and what the source was, and were thoroughly surprised to see that it was coming from in front of your castle. You slinked around the towers that jutted from sections of the roof until you reached the farthest ledge to the front. The human male, the source of the blood in fact, was wearing armor, which immediately set you on edge. You really don’t feel like fighting right now, and what knight in their right mind would come to the fight already bleeding?

“Who dares cross into my territory?” You thundered, projecting your voice so that it carried, warning any other soldiers near by that they needed to back off The man stumbled and fell to his knees. Your eyes darted around. A trap? ‘No,’ you decided. ‘Humans are too stupid for that.’

“Please,” the man croaked out, sounding strained. “Y-you must help us.” You rose a brow.

In one swift motion, you jumped from the roof top and landed on the ground not too far from the soldier. Upon close inspection the human was holding a bundle of... Something, wrapped in blood stained cloth. You, still standing a distance away, sniffed to get the sent, but the sheer amount and intensity of human blood was overpowering. This man wasn’t going to make it much longer.

“P-please.” He coughed, sending blood splattering the dirt in front of him. “T-take her.” He held up the bundle, arms shaking with the effort. “T-the princess, m-must, survive.” He choked, and then dropped to the ground like a stone. Reflexively, you reached a claw to catch the bundle before it hit the ground. It was no use trying to catch the adult human. He was already dead.

Then you blinked a couple of times, finally registering his words. Had he said “princess”?

Delicately, you unwrapped the bundle to find a tiny sleeping flesh bag. Er, what did the humans call these? Oh right. Babies. You liked the term tiny flesh bag better.

With all the movement, it began to wake up, you shut your ears, preparing for the screams. None came however, and so you glanced down at the flesh bag closer. it was giggling and reaching curiously towards your snout. A name was stitched into the blood soaked blanket that read, ‘Princess Aria Mandala.’

“Princess” meant female. “Princess” also meant royalty. You glanced up to the horizon, to see the smoke almost gone, but the silhouette for the small kingdom had vanished. That was the only place she could have come from.

As the tiny flesh bag finally managed to wrap its meaty hand around one of your fangs, you wrinkled your nose. You were  _not_ going to take care of this flesh bag. It was practically your job to not like humans, and this tiny, giggling, adorable flesh bag wan’t going to change that. Even though she had been separated from her family young like you, or seemed to like having the taste of freedom like you, or...

Okay. Maybe one exception to the rule.

But if a single cry came from the flesh bag, you were tossing her out.

 

 

* * *

 

##  _Many years later..._

“Mister Miss Dragon!”

You turned at the familiar call. “Yes, Aria?” You said fondly. Humans aged differently than dragons, but she’d said on multiple occasions that she was fourteen, whatever that meant. Her purple play dress that she’d found in one of the bedroom danced in the air as she jumped up and down.

“There’s another knight here!” She giggled in excitement, her long brown hair seeming floating with how long she stayed airborne.

You glanced out the window to see a knight in quite literally shinning armor, riding on a horse, traipse right into your territory. “So another has,” you mused. “Go up into the tower please. I’ll give you the details there,” you said, standing up and crawling out the window to greet the knight.

“Okay!” You hear behind you, followed by the tapping of bare feet up a stone staircase.

Once outside you bellowed out, “Who dares cross into my territory?”

The human turned his attention to you, and raised his swords aggressively. “I’m am Victor Von Reichenbauch, and I’m here to save the princess from your evil clutches!” No, that wasn’t going to cut it. You climbed up to the tower in which Aria currently resided in.

You peeked through the window to see her sitting, waiting patiently on her bed. “Here’s the scoop,” you start, and she inches closer. “His breath reeks of slaughtered deer, he’s quite pudgy, has a large full beard that reaches his collar, and automatically assumed I was evil. Quite rude. What do you think?”

Aria frowned, and shook her head. Nodding with her decision, you made your way back to the front and yelled, “Leave now or I shall show you no mercy!”

The knight slid off his horse and readied his swords and shield. You sighed. Here we go again. “By, the way,” he tenses at you words. You feel the glands in your throat going to work, esophagus heating up. “Metal is a great conductor of  _heat_.” That was the only warning you gave him as you breathed a searing hot column of fire.

Once a charbroiled knight was out of the way, you climbed your way back up to the tower. You didn’t even have to look through the window to know she had a sad frown on her face. You tried to console her. “It’s alright, Aria.” You poked your snout through and nudged her gently. “We’ll find you someone better looking and with a better personality.”

Princess Aria Mandala hugged your nose, a giggle bubbling up in her throat and a bright smile on her face. “Thank, Mister Miss Dragon.”


End file.
